I'm thinking about pumpkin seeds today.
How they survive the deep-deep freeze.
I think about them treading cautiously.
Beneath the pond's pretty white veil of death.
Is it endless suffering waiting for the first fleck of spring?
I really should be thinking of the homeless instead.
Handing out warm blankets, a warm gaze, a warm drink.
Shielding them from God's blue fingertips.
But instead, I can think only of pumpkin seeds.
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